


Sorrow

by MrsHamill



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:56:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6024577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A meeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by a visit to the Smithsonian's Udvar-Hazy Air and Space Museum Annex a few years back, and never posted anywhere but on my journal..

Sometimes, when he was at loose ends, when he had nothing better to do, when he was _bored_ , he'd pick a spot almost at random to visit. It was almost always on Earth. He'd linger on an atoll, listening to the song of a pod of whales, or sit with a gaggle of geese or a parliament of rooks, stroll with family of elephants... anything to get away from humans. Because no matter how much he loved them, those crazy, inventive, astonishing, brilliant, insane humans, they had a streak of meanness in them, even in the best of them, and sometimes he had to go away from it, just for a little while. So he'd go to the mountains of Mexico and commune with the monarchs or to Antarctica and croak to the emperors. 

But he'd come back. He always did; because he loved them, even with their streak of meanness and their preoccupation with antiperspirants and their irrational fondness for large buildings filled with antiques. 

He was drawn to one such building late of a May afternoon (he thought it was May, it could have been the beginning of June or the tail end of March; the only thing he knew for certain was that it was in Virginia some time in the late twentieth century). The building was large and squat and near an airport and there was a low noise coming from it, a noise he was fairly certain only he could pick up. Well, only himself and possibly some canine-like animals from a planet halfway across the galaxy from Earth who were not present, of that he was certain. The sound was almost sub-sonic, and it was...

He entered the building along with a large group of other tourists and realized immediately what it was -- a museum dedicated to flight. These humans -- so proud of what they had accomplished in just over a hundred years time! As well they should be, he supposed, going from flimsy, balsa-wood and match-stick things to outer-space in four short steps...

Directly across from the entrance was a large, bulky item in white, which seemed to be the source of the noise. He was drawn to it and didn't realize what it was until he was almost in front of it. The plaque under it could have filled him in but he didn't need it. This was where the sound originated, this was where the low, desperate, almost inaudible sound came from. He imagined it was fading, now, after so many years, but it was no less poignant. 

He stood there for some time until, with a start, he realized the building was closing. He left with the stream of people and returned to the TARDIS, rematerializing very, very late, directly in front of the vehicle, inside the building. He pulled a ladder out of storage in the TARDIS and used it to climb to the nose of the shuttle, needing the direct contact.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, caressing the nose of the Enterprise, hearing a resurgence of the low moaning sound. "I know you wanted to go out there, I know it hurts." It felt almost as if he were giving absolution to a lion, born in captivity and now dying in same. "If I could, I would take you. But I can't. You were never meant to go, you were a symbol of what could be."

The moaning was growing weaker. "You've done your duty. You've inspired thousands just by being." The Doctor swallowed hard and laid his cheek against the heat-resistant tiles of Enterprise's nose. "Rest, now. Rest."

By the time he left, the huge, cavernous building was completely silent save for the fading echoes of the TARDIS.

 

end


End file.
